


Light The Night by marrymecap

by TsukinoKei



Category: Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: 15 years ago, 18!Clark, 29!Bruce, Anal Sex, Crossover, M/M, One Night Stands, Translation, before MOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsukinoKei/pseuds/TsukinoKei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He heard the man screaming, but he couldn’t see or feel anything. Blinding light surrounded him, and his surroundings disappeared like a movie scene. He couldn’t hear anything, everything was completely surrounded in silence. He knew this wasn’t possible, unless he chose to shut off his hearing. To him, there was no such thing as absolute silence. </p><p>He must have lost consciousness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clark Kent

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Light the night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145882) by [marrymecap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marrymecap/pseuds/marrymecap). 



> Hi, this is the English Translation for marrymecap's fanfic of the same title. This is my first time doing a Chinese to English translation, so I apologize if there are a few grammatical mistakes.
> 
> Also, please send some love to marrymecap, who has so graciously allowed me to translate this fanfic of hers for the non-chinese fans. ^^

It was just another winter as usual; cold air, biting winds, and Clark only wore a jacket as he stepped out of the house. He knew his body was different, and he was too lazy to pretend that the cold affected him. Every time he bumped into people on streets with scarves wrapped around their necks, beanies on their heads, he would simply listen as they asked about his health. 

His mother was the only exception; he did not have the heart to stop her hobby or knitting him scarves. Whenever he went home during his winter break, he made sure to show up on the doorsteps wearing the scarf she had knitted with love. Clark loved seeing Martha’s warm and loving smile, before pulling her into a hug. 

It was nothing difficult. 

After that very childhood incident, it only made Clark, who was very reserved; draw in even further within himself. In his three years of boarding school, Clark did not make friends. He locked himself in his dorm room if he did not have classes, or he exercised by himself, much less join any clubs or take part in any activities. 

Yet the girls loved boys like him, a little odd on the inside, but blessed with dashingly good looks. And Clark, who had always been shy, thought he had met his first love, and that there was someone who could finally understand him. But who would have thought he got dumped right after their first night together. 

Yet he got the support of his male classmates after that horrible incident, and his monotonous high school life somehow got brighter afterwards. 

When Clark became a freshman in university, on the night of his last paper, a couple of male classmates persuaded him to join them in celebrating at a bar a couple of blocks away from the campus. They had wanted to see if they could sneak some drinks from the bartender despite being underage. 

The risk of getting discovered made Clark excited, despite his body feeling rather strange that night. But he simply could not bring himself to care. 

“Do you think we can even pass as legal? I mean, what if they insist on carding us?” Dean, who was driving, asked as he pulled up at the front of the bar. He had secretly borrowed his dad’s car.

They had chosen this bar because they were worried they might bump into someone familiar. If caught, an entire month of community service here they go. 

Not exactly their idea of fun. 

“Chill, Ryan made sure of it, this bar isn’t as strict as the rest. They don’t even prepare wristbands,” Mel, who was on the front passenger seat, said. The other guy, Paul, urgently pushed at Clark’s back to get him to exit from the other side. 

“Who knows, we might even get into an adventure tonight.” 

Clark laughed, excitement bubbling in his chest. 

***

Even though the bar was not big, there were more customers than expected. Under the dim lights, only the dance floor looked glamorous. Couples were either grinding against each other as they danced, or made out to the music. 

The group immediately split up to look for potential partners, leaving Clark all alone. Awkwardly, he looked around before dropping the idea of even picking someone up. 

Picking a girl up wasn’t exactly his idea of fun.

“A coke please,” he told the bartender, who only gave him a glance, as though drinking coke in a bar was something that’s unheard off. Clark almost thought he was going to get carded, only did the bartender lifted up an empty glass did he let out a relieved sigh.

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure why he came along in the first place. He didn’t drink alcohol, and turning people down wasn’t exactly his forte either. He believed if he was interested, there was no need to turn the other party down. Even if his friends did find out about this, he was perfectly fine with it. 

Clark sat in front of the counter, his chair facing the dance floor as he tried to see what his friends were doing. He opened his senses and let his hearing take over, picking out the sounds from the loud thumping music. Deep blue eyes gazed into the crowd, knowing he would be able to find what he was looking for.

Paul’s dejected reaction after an attractive girl turned him down was enough to make him laugh. Just as Paul walked away, a group of large intimidating men with leering eyes surrounded the girl like bees to a flower.

They looked like your stereotypical schoolyard bullies, but the amount of metal accessories they were wearing told him they were bikers, hooligans even. The situation didn’t look good, one of them had tattoos down his muscular arms, it wouldn’t be surprising if he could throttle someone to death with just one hand. 

“Hey, leave her alone!” Paul yelled, but his voice was drowned out by the music, and a man with a heavily pierced ear glared at him.

“Fuck off, brat!” Pierced ear reached out to shove Paul away, who stumbled back before colliding into another muscled chest. He looked up. It was Clark. 

“You okay? Where are Ryan and Mel?” 

Though Clark wasn’t very tall, his body was toned and well built. But Paul knew Clark, who is normally soft spoken and reserved, he wasn’t going to be able to stand up for himself.

Paul knew they should leave while they still can, there were many other girls in this club, no need to get beaten up because of some hot chick.

“I’m calling them, hopefully they’ll pick up,” Paul said, hurriedly grabbing his phone from his pocket as he hid behind Clark, eliciting sniggers from the group of bikers.

Meanwhile, the girl was stuck between the two groups, her hands clutching tightly onto her bag.

“I’m warning you, leave us alone or be prepared to eat our fists!” another muscular man stood up, puffing out his chest as he showed Clark his bulky build, thinking that he would be able to intimidate them into leaving, but Clark only frowned.

“Boss, I think this guy doesn’t understand you,” another man beside the muscular man snorted, looking at Clark in disdain. “Maybe he’s a mute?” 

Clark gestured at the girl to leave, who immediately took the chance to weave through the wall of muscles and escaped. The men tried to chase after her but they were too late. Immediately, sounds of disappointment and anger came, and they knew they had definitely pissed them off. 

Clark was suddenly filled with anger; he knew he should not ignore his father’s warnings. But he simply didn’t understand, he had the power, the ability to stop these people, but for the fear of being discovered, he could not use his powers to help them. In the past, he simply closed an eye and pretended to ignore these wrongful acts — but not tonight. 

These men were pissing him off.

“What the fuck!” 

The leader aimed his fist towards him, only to have his wrist caught in Clark’s strangely powerful grip. His eyes widened in surprise, his punch frozen in mid air, the music didn’t stop, and people hastily moved away, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

“I’m really fucking pissed right now. You want to be a goddamn hero? Let’s settle this outside,” the man pointed towards the door, shoving Clark’s hand aside, a chilling smile on his face.

“Let’s see how good you are, ALONE.” 

Alone? Clark turned, but Paul was already gone. He couldn’t believe he actually ran away. 

Maybe Paul went to look for the others, he thought.

The men took the chance to haul him out of the bar by his shirt collar. The moment he saw the empty parking lot where Dean’s car was parked, he closed his eyes in despair. 

***

There was something unusual and twisted about the dim bluish-green light emanating from the moon, as though it was going to rip open into a wormhole and swallow everything in its midst.

Outside the bar, a fight was taking place. It wasn’t even considered a fight, Clark was the only one getting beaten up, one man had held onto his shoulders, while the other simply punched him to the ground, but he would simply get up without a single word every time they were done.

“Aren’t you supposed to be invincible?” one man spat out, making sure to add in a couple of curses for effect. Yet, as powerful as his blows were, he was getting tired and there was something definitely wrong about this guy…

He was getting beaten up by so many people, yet not even a single bruise or cut was left on his body. 

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he actually managed to land a blow of the guy.

“Fight me, you fucking pussy!” he yelled at the youth lying on the ground.

Clark wanted to return the favour, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold back. 

He was strong enough to bend steel, and if he fought back, someone was going to get killed. He decided to simply endure their blows until the men were bored, before returning back to campus alone. Even though they were still going at him and don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, it was getting frustrating to simply just fall from their punches.

Lightning struck, and the wind got chillier. Tiny raindrops landed on Clark’s head and face, he wiped them away with his arm, and stood up.

“Show me what you’ve got, you son of a bitch!” 

Clark’s fist tightened, and his eyes shone with fury. The other party saw his trembling fist and smirked, spitting at the ground. 

“What, your mum didn’t give you any balls when you’re born?” 

Insulting his parents were the only thing that could piss him off, and Clark let out an enraged roar before he lunged at the man, grabbing his shirt collar. The man was nearly bent back by his sudden strength, shocked by the sudden fury shown. 

“…Shut up.”

“What?” the man didn’t seem to sense the danger he was in. “Angry that I insulted your mother?”

Just when Clark was about to drive his fist into the man’s face, a blinding sheet of lightning descended from the heavens, and Clark loosened his hold on the man’s collar.

He heard the man screaming, but he couldn’t feel him. Blinding light surrounded him, and his surroundings disappeared like a movie scene. He couldn’t hear anything, and everything was completely surrounded in silence. He knew this wasn’t possible, unless he chose to shut off his hearing, because to him, there was no such thing as absolute silence. 

He lost consciousness.

***

The first thing that woke him up was the pitter-pattering sound of water droplets. One drop, two drops… followed by the sound of pouring rain. He remembered it was raining, and then there was lightning. 

Maybe he got struck. 

He opened his eyes and got up, checking the clothes he was wearing, noting that just like the rest of his body, nothing was destroyed.

He looked up at the sky, but the sky was heavy with dark gray rain clouds, and the dim bluish-green light from before seemed to have disappeared. Clark sighed and looked straight ahead. 

He seemed to be in an unfamiliar alleyway. 

Next to the red brick road was an old apartment building, every single doorstep had the same concrete stairway, and the paint on handrails was flaking off. Warm light emanated from one of the apartment windows, he looked in and saw the clock on the wall showed that it was already 9 in the evening. 

No bars, no bikers, this was definitely not Kansas… where is this place anyways?

Clark closed his eyes and listened, ignoring the rain falling on him. 

Towering lampposts kept watch on the streets, a row of lights in the dark rainy evening, and one of them flickered uneasily. There were too many minute peculiarities in a single night, and Clark had no idea how he should feel. Unease? Fascination? 

He turned to look at the magnificent and imposing night scene behind him, between the towering skyscrapers, that one building that seems to tower over the others…

“Gotham city?”


	2. Bruce Wayne

Chapter 2

Bruce never liked attending social functions. He was forced to attend just to build rapport and have a so-called social life. He knew he could always refuse, and end up being seen as an arrogant brat. It didn’t matter to how people see him, but Bruce admits that networking with certain members of society can be beneficial for him and Wayne Industries. 

Most of the time, he only has to show up, get his photos taken for the press and he will be done for the day. Bruce could have simply been the mysterious shareholder; yet he chose to be the diligent CEO, in order to draw attention away from his private life. After all, some steps must be taken if he needs to fulfill his mission.

In the beginning, it was exciting to lead a double life, to have a secret identity. Yet, as time passed, it became a bond, a heavy obligation that he knew he had to keep. 

So he soldiered on, being Batman had already become a part of his life. 

***

Today had been nothing but meetings and press conferences. He even had to show up at a ribbon cutting ceremony for the opening of the newest suspension bridge in Gotham and give a few words, which usually was the job of the Mayor of Gotham. When the mayor invited him on stage to give a speech, all he did was give a few words about his leadership before leaving. 

Now, he was sitting in a shiny luxurious black sedan, heading towards the fundraising charity ball held in one of the hotels downtown. At first, Bruce had figured he could avoid attending simply by writing a cheque, but he never expected a car to be sent to Wayne Industries to pick him up.

The driver was dressed in a neatly pressed tuxedo, pure white gloves gripping the steering wheel as he drove. He looked to be in his mid thirties, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror to take in Gotham City’s youngest ever CEO. Tall, dark and handsome, Bruce Wayne’s fine features went hand in hand with his wealthy status and background. 

Yet, his entire being radiated calmness and matured sophistication that seemed beyond his years. It was probably the key to how he was able to hold himself against those major shareholders who were much older than him. 

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Bruce said. 

Even though his tone was light, it made the driver hastily cast his gaze straight ahead. 

“This road is one of the more accident-prone sites,” he continued, after a short pause, as though he was playing a game of turn taking. 

This simple sentence helped to calm the young driver down. 

Bruce had managed to convince the stubborn driver to send him back Wayne Manor, just so he could change into a tuxedo that’s more appropriate for the occasion. 

As Bruce stood by the window of his room on the second floor while tying on his bow tie, he watched the young driver took a smoke break to calm himself down, he probably didn’t even realise he was pacing up and down. 

The driver had accepted the “dangerous mission” of picking Bruce Wayne up to the ball. Luckily for him, Bruce Wayne had agreed to attend, if not, there goes his job. 

Bruce had seen how nervous he was, it was probably one of the reasons why he changed his mind and decided to attend the function instead.

***

The moment Bruce stepped into the ballroom; the bright gleam of the spotlights fell on him. Bruce was surprised; it almost felt like a set up, as a smiling Chris Will, the organiser of the fundraiser, walked towards him. 

Whatever Chris was trying to achieve, it definitely didn’t make Bruce like him any more or less.

He was a short stout man with red hair and pockmarked skin. Chris looked young, yet his gestures and personality felt a little shallow and frivolous. For someone who’s supposed to be the organiser of a charity fundraiser, he did not seem to carry the responsibility that the job entailed.

“Mr Wayne! I see you’ve finally arrived,” Chris said, his hand outstretched towards Bruce, as though greeting an old friend. Yet Bruce turned away, one hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. 

Chris retracted his hand awkwardly and pretended not to notice. Instead, he fell into step beside Bruce. 

“You got someone to pick me up at my office, didn’t you? I don’t intend to stay for long, so let’s cut to the chase,” Bruce said. As he drank his champagne, he observed his surroundings, his eyes falling on the banner above the stage: ‘Lionel Foundations charity and fundraising ball.’

He had heard of Lionel Foundations, they usually invite small to medium enterprises or bankers to participate in their fundraisers. However, where the funds actually end up is a complete mystery, and local newspapers would always be holding on to this lead, hoping to get that big exclusive scoop. Yet, there was always evidence showing charitable activities being carried out, leaving reporters at a complete loss. 

Bruce was always generous in his philanthropic activities, when he had refused to attend the ball this morning over the phone; he had got his secretary to send them a cheque. 

Looks like he will have to make a phone call to Gotham National Bank.

“Now, Mr Wayne, don’t be silly. You were the one who donated the highest amount tonight, and that calls for a round of applause, don’t you think?” Chris grinned, as he raised his hands to clap. The guests in the ballroom followed, before everyone stopped right at the same time. 

It almost felt rehearsed.

Everyone’s attention was focused on Bruce Wayne, eagerly expecting him to say something. Bruce mused for a total of five minutes, and the silence was almost suffocating until he raised his glass and said, 

“To all those who are present, I thank you all, very much. Please, do continue to enjoy the evening.” 

Another round of applause for such a short frivolous line, and the music started playing again. Chris’s face was a sickly pale green, he had not expected Bruce Wayne to not even give him the slightest respect, he was definitely difficult to handle as the rumours said. 

“Like I said, cut to the chase.” 

Bruce’s curt tone only served to make things difficult for him, and he really didn’t plan on getting straight to the main conversation. But Bruce was so adamant about it, Chris could only smile and clasp his hands together. 

“Well, I was just wondering if you would be interested in investing in the petrochemical industry?”

“How is it related to tonight’s event?” Bruce asked

Chris’s reaction only seemed to tell him that his question wasn’t as straightforward as it sounded. Bruce’s suspicions deepened. 

“Well, one of the organisers for tonight’s fund-raising event has plans for deep sea exploration — you know, to build an off shore drilling platform in the ocean. After all, 25 percent of the world’s oil deposits are in the ocean. And aside from oil, we can probably discover other types of renewable sources that could be use in replacement of fossil fuels…”

“So we’re just wondering what are your thoughts on this ‘investment’, Mr Wayne?” Chris said, taking in Bruce’s reaction. 

But Bruce did not look happy, instead, his eyebrows were furrowed, and it only served to make him look more stern than usual. 

“Does the IODP know about this?” 

It may sound as though he was trying to make an illegal business plan legal, but Bruce knew they would never allow some unknown private corporation to start drilling in the sea. After all, the ocean was as crowded as it was, without the backing from a country’s central government; it is hard for ordinary folks to get in.

Other than oil, he was more interested on what Chris was looking for in the sea.

“O-Of course! After all, we do have to apply for clearance before we start building,” Chris pulled out a blue checkered handkerchief from his back pocket and hastily wiped away the drops of perspiration on his ruddy cheeks. 

R

“Well, thanks for your reply then, but I really must go,” Bruce said, as he placed his empty flute on another passing tray. Just as he was about to turn and leave, he heard Chris yell.

“Wait, Mr Wayne! Are you really not interested? It’s a profitable opportunity!”

Bruce stopped, his back ramrod straight, his tall and strong posture drawing the attention of many of the female guests. Chris almost thought Bruce changed his mind, a smile starting to show on his face…

Except, Bruce left with these parting words,

“I almost forgot, I’ll be giving a call to Gotham National Bank first thing in the morning tomorrow, just to make sure they cancel that cheque. I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to invest in such a massive plan as this.”

“Also, my advice, ’It’s only a matter of time when using unscrupulous means to achieve quick profits will only result in getting what you rightly deserve.’” 

Chris Will stood shell-shocked, his jaw hanging open. He did not expect Bruce to not have the slightest interest in the investment, much less cancel his cheque. With all the other guests witnessing this embarrassing tirade, his ears reddened in embarrassment and anger. 

***

Bruce Wayne had not planned to stay; all he wanted was to see if the money donated would be going to worthwhile causes. Before reaching the hotel, he had made the driver wait outside the building. Avoiding the throng of reporters following after him, he walked straight towards that black sedan.

Bruce knocked on the driver’s seat window, who immediately rolled the window down. 

“I didn’t managed to catch your name just now.” 

“Ronnie, Ronnie Dawes,” the driver replied.

“Ronnie, I’m hiring you to be my driver, you won’t have to worry about your previous pay cheque now,” Bruce bent down to look at Ronnie, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“Yes! Of course Mr Wayne!” Ronnie said happily, immediately unlocking the passenger side door to let his new boss in. Meanwhile, the crowd of reporters and photographers were unrelenting, their cameras flashing away. Ronnie suddenly felt he had a job to be proud of; he was no longer a hired chauffeur who was having problems getting jobs. 

“Let’s head home, you know the way.” 

“No problem, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translator's note:


	3. In the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys, it's finals over at my side of the world. Again, please send lots of love to marrymecap (thorlovecap on tumblr), who has so graciously allowed me to translate this. Also, she has added two new chapters on the original piece, so I'll get straight to translating them once exams are over. HAHA

It was past nine when Bruce left. He did not expect the event to last this long; Alfred must be waiting for him at home. It also started drizzling when they left the hotel. The black sedan rounded a bend; there was already a light mist from the rain, and raindrops continued to rain down on the car. 

Ronnie felt the need to send his new boss home as fast as possible as the rain got heavier. Afterwards, he would probably head home take a hot shower and have a glass of scotch before heading to bed. 

As he glanced at the rearview mirror, Mr Wayne was still alert, staring blankly out at the window. 

There were hardly any passers-by on the streets. Everyone held their umbrellas tightly in their hands, or they curled up in the coats, their breaths crystalizing in the air. 

“Wait, Ronnie. Stop the car.” 

Ronnie immediately hit the brakes the moment Bruce said stop, forgetting that the traffic light was changing. He turned to look at Bruce, only to see him staring out of the window. Something or someone had caught his attention. 

“There’s a young man out there.” 

Bruce pointed to the red-bricked apartment building next to the road. Ronnie’s gaze followed.

A young man was sitting at the stairwell in front of one of the apartments, completely drenched. His raven black hair was plastered over his face; pale skin stark against the night, and those blue eyes seemed to give off an unearthly glow. 

“I’m going to check on him, do you have an umbrella?” 

Ronnie parked the car by the curb before braving the rain to get the umbrella from the boot. He opened the door and shielded his boss from the rain.

“Thanks.” 

Bruce took part in all kinds of charity events, big or small. He even made sure to volunteer whenever he had free time from his work or personal life. He wouldn’t say he is filled with compassion, but something about those blue eyes drew him in… like a pair of twin lights in the dark. 

He didn’t look like a kid who happened to be taking a midnight stroll, and if he happened to be in some kind of trouble, Bruce was sure that Alfred wouldn’t mind he brought a visitor back to stay the night. 

Bruce walked towards the young man with his umbrella, but he noticed that he didn’t seem to notice him. In fact, those unblinking blue eyes were gazing afar. Like a white marble statue, his eyes seemed to be rooted on the car. Bruce coughed to get his attention. 

The young man looked at him, a wary look on his face. Tiny raindrops clung to those long lush eyelashes; his cupid bow lips were curved, but he wasn’t smiling. Bruce noted that he even had a cleft chin, like him. 

“Hey, what are you doing here all alone?” Bruce asked, as he tried to make himself approachable. He did not want to frighten the boy with his stoic demeanour.

From Ronnie’s point of view, there was no difference between Bruce’s usual demeanour and his attempt at making himself approachable. After all, it was hard not to feel intimidated by Bruce’s towering height of 6’4”. 

“…I don’t know” the boy replied. His tone, that genuine confusion it carried, only served to worry Bruce. Not amnesia then, Bruce thought, as he changed his line of questioning

***

To be honest, Clark didn’t know why he suddenly appeared in Gotham. Sure he was supposed to be getting beaten up by a bunch of bikers in a bar — yes, beaten up, not fighting. Even though he matured faster than most of his peers, he wasn’t bulky enough. And when he tried his best to suppress his temper, he always ended up using superpowers to vent his anger. 

It was probably because of his helpful nature. He had wanted to help a girl out of a difficult situation, but they only laughed at his slender figure. And his silence only served to anger them even further. Even if he had not returned a single punch, the lack of a bruise or cut to his face made them realise they were probably not his match. 

Yet, the moment one of them insulted his mother, he flared up. He forgot what his father had taught him and his volatile emotions made him unable to control his power. Clark didn’t know what happened, all he remembered was after that bolt of lightning, he passed out. He didn’t even know whether he was dead or alive, until he woke up to find out he had collapsed in the rain. 

***

“Do you mind if I ask for your name?” It was a cold and rainy night, and the boy was only wearing a thin hoodie, the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath was completely soaked though, showing skin underneath the translucent fabric. 

“…Clark.” 

Bruce took off his overcoat, wanting to drape it over Clark. But the slender figure only stiffened up and hurriedly went, “I don’t need—“

“It’s okay, just take it.” 

He thought Clark was probably too embarrassed to take it. The boy was still looking at him with suspicion in his eyes, and Bruce immediately draped his coat over his shoulders. Clark stiffened up, before hesitantly taking the coat offered. 

Clark knew not everyone harboured evil intentions, but a kind face didn’t mean it could hide a sinister background. He probably met someone who may not look generous, but could actually have a heart of gold. And just maybe, this might teach him to just be a bit more discerning and open. 

“Clark, I’m Bruce. If you don’t mind, I can drop you off at the nearest police station. There’s someone I know there who help you get home.” Bruce paused. “If you still remember your address.” 

He couldn’t go to the police station. He wouldn’t be able to explain how he got all the way from Kansas to Gotham. Even if he possessed surprisingly long leaping skills, he wouldn’t be able to cover such a long distance within a short amount of time. Clark knew he wouldn’t be allowed to tell anyone about the incident, no one would believe him. 

“I… I’m staying on campus actually.”

“Which school is it? Gotham High?”

“University, but it’s not Gotham U… and, I’m already 18.”

Clark stood up, his posture ramrod straight, he wasn’t as short as Bruce expected. With his looks, sinewy muscles and svelte body frame, they definitely make him look younger than his eighteen years. Besides, Clark was a head shorter than him. 

Bruce coughed to cover the smile that was threatening to show. Even though the chuckles were soft, Clark heard them, and a frown immediately appeared on his face, which Bruce found surprisingly adorable.

“Are you sure don’t want to go to the police station? Not even back to school? Clark, are you sure you don’t want me to send you back? I won’t let the school know that you sneaked out in the middle of the night. But if you don’t head back now, the school will inform your parents. Besides, you wouldn’t want them to worry.” 

“No… There’s no need.”

Bruce let out a sigh; he hardly possessed such patience when it comes to talking to youths. But he knew if he chose to ignore it, and something were to happen to Clark, he would only have himself to blame.

“Then, if you don’t mind… how about you stay over at my place for the night, my butler and I are the only ones in the house.”

“…Are you sure?” 

“Of course.”

He gave him a slight smile, and motioned for him to join him under his umbrella. Clark held on to the warm and heavy overcoat, and slowly made his way to Bruce’s side. 

***

When the majestic Wayne Manor came into view, surrounded by acres of flat grass, which may look dull underneath the moonlight, but he knew in the day, the grounds would be a gorgeous dewy green, made Clark, a boy from the countryside, gape as the car made its way down the driveway. 

He simply couldn’t fathom how someone, who lives in a lap of luxury, would be this welcoming and generous. 

Clark’s heart warmed with gratitude.

Before they even got out, the front doors of the manor opened, and an old white haired butler appeared to welcome them. 

“This is your salary for the day, Ronnie. From next month onwards, your pay will be directly transferred into your bank account. Just look for my secretary tomorrow in the office to fill in the necessary paper work,” Bruce said, as he handed a couple of bills to his new driver, so as to allow him to head home and rest. 

“Thank you Mr Wayne!” Ronnie bowed, as he happily accepted the money and drove off.

“Master Bruce, I never knew you had a penchant for picking up strays,” Alfred joked lightly, before he turned towards Clark. “Would you like to have some warm milk?” 

“He happens to have nowhere to go, I’ll let him stay for night, before sending him back tomorrow,” Bruce said dryly. “…And he would need some dry clothes, Alfred. Please see if you could find something of his size from some of my old clothes?” 

He felt the teenager bristle underneath his palm, where it was firmly clasped on his shoulder. It seems Clark really hated being looked upon as a child.

Bruce gently pushed Clark towards Alfred, motioning at him to follow him. Clark turned to look at him, before turning to follow after the butler. 

When it comes to looking after troubled young men, Alfred’s an expert. He had seen that flash of suspicion in the old butler’s eyes the moment he laid his eyes on Clark. All he hopes that Alfred doesn’t think he has an ulterior motive for bringing a stranger back home. 

But compared to Alfred’s slight distrust, Clark’s deliberate attempts at hiding something was made his eyebrows raise. Despite Bruce’s attempt to send him home, Clark had refused to tell him where his school was, much less even head to the police station. It was troubling enough that he couldn’t force Clark to tell him, and all he did was glance at him from the corner of his eye, taking in his crestfallen face, those long lashes, until those blue eyes lit up at the sight of Wayne Manor. 

***

Bruce took a shower and changed into his sleep robe. He had planned to chat with Clark before heading to bed when he saw the boy already asleep on the sofa the moment he stepped into the living room, a blanket covering him.

The light from the fire in the fireplace illuminated his face. As Bruce’s gaze travelled downwards, he raised an eyebrow. Alfred hadn’t been able to find any of his old clothes for Clark, the sleep shirt he was wearing was obviously several sizes to big for him, and any slight movement would cause it to slip off his shoulder. 

If this was a movie scene and Clark was a woman, the sight before him would have been extremely tempting. 

Just as he was about to pick up the empty glass on the table, he noticed the troubled expression in his sleep. His eyelids were twitching, and drops of perspiration were appearing on his forehead. Bruce immediately stopped to watch.

The nightmare was getting worse, Clark’s lips kept moving, as though he was trying to scream, while his body kept shivering and twitching. 

Just as Bruce was about to wake him, the unexplainable happened. 

Clark screamed, his eyes snapping open in fear. Instead of sapphire blue eyes, twin bolts of hellfire shot up towards the ceiling, and the chandelier fell. Bruce was rooted to the ground in shock, but he quickly regained his composure and carefully made his way towards Clark. 

“Clark! Close your eyes! Wake up!” Bruce pinned Clark’s shoulder down with one hand, holding his head still by his chin with the other. The moment he saw those lasers were about to break through the ceiling, Bruce instinctively closed Clark’s eyes with his hands.

Clark seemed to have calmed down and was panting heavily. Bruce realised the boy was crying, the tears wetting the palm of his hands as they trickled down his cheeks. 

“My hand… Can I let go of my hand now?” Bruce asked. Compared to him, this boy probably has issues worse than his. 

“Y-Yes…” Bruce slowly moved his hand away. Clark’s eyelashes were dewy with unshed tears. When he opened his eyes, it was almost like looking into the depths of a clear swimming pool. 

“Master Bruce?” Alfred was woken up by the commotion and had rushed to check on them. His eyes widened at the destruction, probably wondering if a meteorite crashed into the house.

“I’ll explain it first thing in the morning, please?” Bruce pleaded and Alfred could only nod and head back to his bedroom, shaking his head as he left, probably wondering why in God’s name did Bruce choose to remodel the house in the middle of the night.

Clark’s expression was almost uncomfortable, as though he had just revealed a secret he had been hiding for a lifetime; Bruce didn’t want to force an explanation from him. 

“If you do not wish to speak about it, you don’t have to. I’m not… terribly curious about it.” Bruce noticed his shirt was askew, revealing his shoulder.

Clark wiped his eyes dry with the back of his hand. He sniffled before crossing his fingers together.

“As you can see, that was… one of my abilities. I’m really sorry for wrecking your home,” he said, looking up at Bruce with those big eyes of his, like a wounded puppy. “Usually, I have great control over my powers, honest. I guess I just lost it because of that nightmare.” 

“Was it a terrible one? Is that why you didn’t want to tell me where you’re from?” Bruce sat down next to him, as though he wasn’t noticing there was a shattered chandelier just lying 5 feet away from the sofa, along with a huge slab of concrete from the ceiling. 

“It wasn’t. You should understand, you can’t really tell anyone about things like this,” Clark said morosely, nibbling at his lip in worry. “Even if I do wish to use my powers to help others.”

“Well, that’s good, it’s what you should do,” Bruce nodded, before walking towards the wine cabinet to grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Would you like some? Just to calm your nerves, I remember you telling me you’re of age.” 

The atmosphere was almost surreal, a young man and a teenager chatting idly to each other in the middle of a destroyed living hall. Clark’s mood was visibly lighter, probably because there was someone who finally knows his secret. He was also getting more open about himself, as he happily told Bruce about the time he saved his own school bus that had fallen into a lake, before pensively telling him about the promise his own father made him keep. 

“I think he has a good point, your father is a great man,” Bruce smiled. “If my father was still here, he would have told me the same thing when I was your age. And maybe… I wouldn’t be the same person I was today.” 

He knows how it feels to put on a mask, to maintain a false image in front of everyone, and how difficult and tiring it gets. After all, relaxation is a luxury once he’s home from work, there’s another mask he has to put on for the night. 

Clark frowned, not understanding what Bruce meant. The older man immediately reached to rub at the space between his brows. Clark felt his heart skip a beat. 

“Stop frowning, you look good when you smile.” 

Knowing Clark’s ‘little secret’ made Bruce’s heart lighten, his warm sunny smile was like a soothing balm on his weary soul. Despite having to hide his secret and carry such a heavy burden with him, it did not extinguish the goodness in his heart. 

If only he could stay by his side, that would be good too. 

Bruce was so shocked by that sudden train of thought that he hurriedly downed his whisky. 

“Aside from my mum, no one told me I had a nice smile,” Clark blushed, biting at his lower lip again. 

He always kept a low profile in school, hoping he could turn invisible, at least no one would cause him any trouble. Yet at the same time, he felt he was nothing but a coward, pretending to not see the times when his schoolmates were getting bullied — after all ever since he started speaking up for others, the school had in turn warned him to mind his own business, even if he did not retaliate. 

Even the classmates whom he had helped avoided him, as though he was the one who had brought trouble upon them. Clark had tried not to feel too dejected about it, but his melancholia had made it difficult for him to smile, all he wanted was to disappear into the sea of people, and live his life like a normal human being. 

He stared at the glass, he knew there were things that were definitely his fault, like the incident in the bar… no one had said you had to drink if you were at a bar.

“Are you sure? I don’t buy it,” Bruce’s teasing compliment made Clark laugh, and Bruce followed after. At that moment, there was something warm settling in his chest, causing his heart to beat faster. 

Clark’s smile waned, his expression a little coy, and he was nibbling on his lower lip again. Slowly, he took a deep breath and said, “Your heart is beating really fast.” 

“What?” Bruce was surprised. He didn’t think his expression was that obvious to the point Clark could read him… or maybe he was a little stupid. 

“The sound… It’s really fast, and the beats are a little intense.” This was why he was wondering if he should tell him. As he replied, Clark felt his face heating up, before unbuttoning the top most button of his shirt, fanning himself with the collar. 

“…Is this one of your other abilities as well?” The cogs in Bruce’s head were turning, but he used this opportunity to hide his own embarrassment, before realising that he might have lost the moment to lie. 

A human lie detector, he thought. 

“Yes,” Clark thought he had just revealed that he was not human. It might either scare him away, or probably get laughed at for the rest of his life. “W-Why?” 

Clark looked at Bruce, that handsome face looking at him with skepticism. As he was wondered where that look had came from, he suddenly remembered the reason why Bruce’s heart was beating so quickly, and he immediately acted on instinct. 

“I don’t—“

Just as Bruce was about to explain, Clark lunged at him, a pair of soft red lips pressed against his own dry chapped ones. The kiss was short, before he immediately backed away. He should have been surprised, to the point where he should have fallen off the sofa, yet his only thought was that it was too short. 

“Um… you couldn’t have been—“ Bruce instinctively pointed a finger at him, before pulling back as he realised how rude that was. 

“I thought? I thought you were —“ Clark’s eyes were confused, as though thinking this was not how the situation should have went, before his face reddened and he said, “Oh… I’m… I’m not. I’ll… I’ll head to my room now.” 

Clark awkwardly picked up the blanket and got up to leave, wanting to disappear as fast as possible. 

But Bruce grabbed onto his wrist.

“You’re mistaken. I was just wondering if you were a… virgin?” He suddenly decided to play with the boy a bit. “You know, no one has ever tried kissing me like that, it’s a bit cute, really.” 

The moment Clark heard Bruce’s words, a surge of annoyance ran through him. He shook his wrist free and turned to glare at the man on the sofa, but the blanket he was carrying and the oversized pyjamas only made him look adorable.

“I’m not a virgin. And don’t be rude, Mr Wayne, just…just because my kissing technique was bit… tame doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. It’s not as though I was a bad kisser,” Clark huffed, making sure to emphasise his point. 

Bruce raised his eyebrows at ‘Mr Wayne’, and the look on his face seemed to say, “Really? You think your technique wasn’t that bad?” It only made Clark more determined, as he threw the blanket onto the sofa and straddled Bruce’s thighs, his hands pushing his shoulders back against the back of the chair, before lowering his lips to Bruce’s own to prove his point.

Just as he was about to slip his tongue in, Bruce gently pushed him away. He tried to continue, but Bruce wouldn’t budge.

“Wait,” Bruce wiped his face with his hand as he realised something was not going right. “I don’t make my moves on children, and you really shouldn’t play with fire like that.” 

“I’m not a kid, I’m eighteen,” Clark said, still straddling Bruce. “And you gave me a drink just now, remember?” 

“I don’t make moves on ‘men’,” Bruce said. He knew as a man with high social status, there were always women willing to throw themselves at him, and if the feeling was mutual, there will be dates. And sometimes, they might even spend a night at the manor, but it didn’t mean he was not picky. As for men — even a boy as beautiful as him wasn’t in his area of interest — he had never dated one before. 

“Maybe… you could try?” Clark was shocked by the words that came out of his mouth, before realising the situation was getting awkward. Immediately, he waved his hands to deny what he just said and leaped away. “Um… never mind, I was just joking… I’ll… I’ll just head to bed now.”

What an embarrassment, he couldn’t believe he would do something as brazen as that! Without even grabbing his blanket, Clark hurriedly turned to leave. Bruce tried to pull him back, but could only grab onto his shirt collar. Clark stumbled, thinking he was about to fall, when a warm palm steadied him. 

Clark’s shirt was pulled apart, exposing skin as white as snow. Only a few stubborn buttons refused to yield, and Bruce could see a small pink nipple exposed through the gap. Clark may have a slender body, but his chest was surprisingly solid and thick. 

“… Mr Wayne?” 

Bruce seemed to refuse to let go of his shoulder, the heat from his palm was like a brand against his skin, and he could feel his body heating up. Clark immediately pulled his shirt back up, but he wasn’t trembling from of the cold.

“You know, you don’t just stick your tongue down someone’s mouth when you’re kissing,” Bruce whispered in his ear, as if inviting him for a demonstration. Clark could hear his own heart beating as he turned to look at the man behind him. Immediately, Bruce grabbed his chin and Clark took a deep calming breath. 

“Relax,” Bruce smiled, wrapping his arm around his waist. Slowly, he took Clark’s bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling at it. Clark didn’t know how to respond, and could only stand there stupidly as he allowed Bruce to lead. 

As they kissed, Bruce’s other hand slipped up Clark’s shirt, gently stroking his smooth skin as he caressing his back. Clark instinctively twisted, and Bruce’s hand moved to pinch his butt. 

“Mmmm… wait!” Clark pushed at him, trying to avoid Bruce’s touches. But Bruce grabbed the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. In the heat of their passion, and his butt being mercilessly groped, Clark could feel his legs tremble as he sank to the floor. 

“Hey!” Bruce instinctively got on his knees.

“…I told you to wait,” Clark glared at the man above him, but all Bruce felt was amusement. 

Clark’s innocent reactions and tempting body was almost like a poisonous apple. You cannot help but feel the attraction, despite knowing having to resist such temptations. And once you have had a taste of it, there is no turning back. 

“Who told you…” Clark’s pale skin was flushed pink, the patch of exposed skin beneath that collar made Bruce want to see more. Clark took the chance to catch his breath as he sat down on the carpet. 

“I didn’t know little virgin boys like you were this sensitive.” Bruce deliberately using “virgin” to tease the young man in front of him, waiting for him to take the bait, he almost felt like a mischievous little boy. 

“I’m not—“

Bruce smirked as Clark captured his lips with his own, trying to do the same with the method he just showed him. But Clark was like an overexcited puppy as he crashed down on him, their clothes damp with perspiration, probably due to the heat from the fireplace. 

When Clark wasn’t paying attention, Bruce took the opportunity to slip his hands up his shirt again. But Clark was too busy “seeking revenge” to even pay attention to the pair of hands caressing his body, his waist, his abs, as though he was trying to memorise the shape of his body.

Those hands moved upwards towards his chest, gently squeezing before Bruce said in awe, “You’re not as skinny as you look.” 

Bruce gently kneaded at the firm muscles, before his fingers moved to twist those soft pink nipples, feeling them hardening underneath his touch. 

The boy straddling him was already panting, and Bruce could feel his excited heartbeat through his palms. Their lips parted as they took the moment to catch their breaths, Bruce thought Clark had had his fun and was about leave when he felt the tell tale bulge pressing against him. 

Clark’s hands were positioned beside Bruce’s body, whose robe was parted to reveal well-toned muscles. Their groins were pressed tightly against each other, and Clark unwittingly found himself grinding against Bruce.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asked, gripping Clark’s hips tightly to stop him. “Clark, you should head to bed—“

Bruce’s rationality fled when Clark pecked gently at his neck. He paused for a while before slipping his hands into Clark’s trousers, his erection already tenting his underwear, the front of the clothing was damp with pre come. 

“Mmmmm” Clark moaned softly, the hands supporting his body buckled and he fell to his elbows. He pressed his face against Bruce’s chest, unconsciously lifting his butt and hips. 

“Naughty,” Bruce hissed, as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Who taught you to tempt me?” 

29-year-old Bruce Wayne was always proud of the control he had honed over the years, who knew the first person to break it was a passionate and sensual young man? 

As he moved his hand away, Clark continued to grind against him. As pleasurable as it was to get off by rubbing against each other, Bruce was more interested in other areas. 

“Do you know it goes?” Bruce lifted Clark’s chin with his left hand, as he gazed into those deep blue eyes. There was a tiny brown spot in one of them, so captivating that he felt like he was drowning in them. Meanwhile, he slipped his right hand into Clark’s trousers, long calloused fingers slipping between those cheeks to massage at the soft puckered entrance.

“I… I don’t. The mechanics should be the same anyways,” his body was heating up, but Clark felt his face was even hotter. “Have you done it before? I mean, are you willing to—“ 

Clark did not know why he was hesitating, he had made the first move, yet he backed away when Bruce reciprocated, much less even know if this was even right in the first place.

“I’ve never done it, sorry for raising your expectations.” Bruce’s dry wit was annoying him again. “But I’m willing to do it with you… at least it shows that I like you?” 

Clark was speechless, and he felt his face reddening even further. 

“Cat got your tongue? Aren’t we going to continue?” Bruce mischievously pinched his butt cheeks, feeling like a lecherous old man. He sat up and made the young man straddle his lap, who only smiled stiffly at him. Clark immediately moved to unbutton his sleep shirt, throwing it aside as he captured Bruce’s mouth with his, trying to assert himself as a pink tongue peeked out to toy at him. 

One had to admit Bruce Wayne was a charming man. He was funny, flirtatious, rich, and charitable. And the occasional melancholic front he put on made him very attractive to women and at the envy of many men. 

This chance meeting had already laid it roots in Clark’s heart. 

“You’re improving,” Bruce smiled as he kissed him, hands caressing Clark’s body, the boy’s pink nipples flushed red against his pale skin. 

“And I think this… is getting in the way,” Bruce pulled his trousers and underwear down, Clark’s erection bobbing as it was freed from its confines, before warm hands wrapped themselves around it.

Clark threw his head back as he ground his hips down instinctively, shivering at the pleasure coursing through his body. All thoughts fled from his mind as he reached out to wrap his fingers around Bruce’s cock.

“Would you like to come first?” Bruce asked sweetly, gently cupping Clark’s balls as he rolled them in his palm. His other hand was stroking Clark’s cock, the pre cum slicking his movements and making a slightly wet noise loud enough to make Clark blush. 

“W-What?” 

Bruce stroked faster, and Clark’s body stiffened against the onslaught of pleasure coursing through his body. He bit down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans and pants escaping through his mouth, when his back arched and he released in Bruce’s hand, whimpering softly.

Clark remained slumped against Bruce’s chest, hiding his reddened face in the crook of his neck. Bruce could not help but caress Clark’s back, the heat emanating from his body as the young man’s pants echoed in his ear. 

“Are we stopping now?” the question bringing a wry smile to his face. Bruce wrapped his arms around Clark’s waist as he lifted him up to lay him on the carpet. 

When Clark opened his eyes, he saw the huge hole in the ceiling, all the way through the second and third floor, his eyes darkening as he saw the damage he caused. He had never wanted to cause people any trouble. 

“Don’t rush, I can’t enter you now,” Bruce said, as he tossed Clark’s pyjamas onto the sofa before bracketing Clark in his arms and body. “Let me see… here?” 

“It’s alright, I’m not afraid of the pain.” Just as he finished, Clark stiffened at the unfamiliar pressure of a finger pushing through his entrance. Even though he could not feel any discomfort, Clark’s virgin entrance was still tight and unyielding, even after slicking his hole with pre cum. And Bruce could not bring himself to continue at the fearful look in Clark’s eyes. 

“Stop forcing yourself, I won’t force you if you don’t want to do it,” Bruce said, planting a kiss on Clark’s forehead to ease the tension. Bruce had no experience in having sex with another man, and he was afraid of hurting Clark. No matter how Clark insisted he was not a virgin, this was probably his first time with a man.

“I want to have sex with you, you don’t have to go slow,” Clark stared at him with those blue eyes. Shivering, he parted his thighs slowly, almost like a lamb offering itself up for sacrifice, and Bruce could see the uncertainty in those eyes.

“If you’re feeling embarrassed because of that ‘skylight’ you made, I guess I can’t really ignore that. You’re kind and you want to help people, but you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself, even if you are a young man with superpowers and a slight stubborn streak, I can give you that,” Bruce sighed. 

He never thought Clark would think of repaying him in such a manner. He wasn’t sure if he looked as though he was bothered by it, but he definitely did not put it to heart. 

An open and caring heart would get nothing but overwhelming pressure, as he locks his heart behind a cage. And Bruce suddenly thought of himself, wasn’t he living a double life now? He was given the chance to meet this boy who could possibly understand him and yet all he wanted to do was tease him. 

“But—“

“I do hope you’ll have sex with me because you like me, isn’t it wrong?” Bruce leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose, squeezing Clark’s pecs at the same time. “Relax, there’s nothing to be nervous about.” 

Clark met Bruce’s lips with his again, damp lashes fluttering shut as he moved his hand to the back of Bruce’s neck to deepen the kiss, pressing them flush against each other. As Bruce’s fingers pressed inside his body again, a frown appeared between his brows when the older man brushed against his prostate.

“Don’t…do that,” Clark twisted, trying to close his thighs. But Bruce’s body was nestled between them, and Clark had no choice but to keep them apart, trapped and unable to move as he got hard again, wanting to be touched. 

Bruce peppered tiny kisses on his lips, his face, the crook of his neck and collarbone. The brief brush of lips against skin was almost ticklish, as those fingers slowly massaged his inner walls to loosen them, and his muscles clamped down on Bruce’s fingers, as though trying to swallow them whole. 

“Mmm, hurry… stop it…” Clark pushed at Bruce as he tried to kiss him again, his tone urgent. He wasn’t worried that he’ll get hurt. While he was touched by Bruce’s careful preparation, he simply could not wait any longer. 

“Be patient, it’s not just for you.” Bruce grabbed his waist to pull him closer, pushing his knees up till they were pressed against his chest. 

Two fingers twisted inside the soft inner walls, and Bruce unwittingly pressed against Clark’s prostate again, sending pleasure coursing through Clark’s body that left him weak and limp.

Clark bit down on his lip to muffle his moans, the mind numbing pleasure was almost becoming a torture. 

“E-Enough, don’t…” Clark frowned at Bruce, his eyes beginning to mist over. “In me…Bruce… Hurry!”

Clark sounded as though he was about to cry, and Bruce let out a long sigh. Bending over him, he positioned Clark’s knees in the crook of his arms and lifted them, kissing his trembling lips as he slowly pushed his cock in. Clark’s eyes widened and Bruce could not help but feel a little worried.

“You okay?” Clark was as tight as a vice, but the fluid was making it easier for him to move. “Unbelievable.” 

Long lashes fluttered at him, and Clark reached out to loop his arms around his neck to pull him closer before whispering:

“You can do whatever you want…” Crystalline blue eyes gazed up at him as a pink tongue darted out to lick at his lips, waiting like a puppy to be rewarded. 

“Shut up, I’m going to kiss you,” Bruce smiled as he nipped at Clark’s bottom lip, slowly moving his hips. Soft moans and pants escaped his opened mouth, each brush against his prostate making him shiver in delight.

Making love in front of the fireplace made them sweat, and the young man’s snow-white skin was taking on a flushed red hue, his hands planted on Bruce’s shoulder. He made a move to wrap them around him before he shrunk back. Ever observant, Bruce slowed down and raised an inquisitive brow. 

“I can’t hug anyone without worrying about my strength.” 

Clark sounded as though he was about to cry. He could not stand the pain of not being able to truly hug someone at this moment, every time he had to make sure to put his arms carefully around them, and whenever he let go, there was a growing emptiness in his heart. 

Bruce reached out to wipe the tears from his eyes and wrapped his arms tight around him, causing him to thrust even deeper inside the boy, pressing them close together. 

“Let me hold you tightly, so tight that you can’t breathe… It’ll feel like you’re hugging me as well.” 

“Thanks… B-But…ahhh… too deep!” Clark patted at his shoulder, and the tip of Bruce’s cock brushed against a spot that made his squeak. He never knew there was another pleasure spot in him besides his prostate that could give him pleasure, and the feeling was sudden and strong, enough to cause his brain to blank out. 

Bruce released him, before adjusting his angle and thrust in deep, brushing against that spot again. Clark arched his back, sobbing as more tears spilled out, his erection bobbing lewdly as pre cum flowed from the tip, drenching his abdomen. 

“N-No…. Don’t… Nnnn… Bruce…!”

He instinctively reached out to grab at Bruce’s arm, but held his strength back for fear of hurting him. Clark watched as Bruce panted, his eyes darkened with lust, his thrusts brushing against his prostate before hitting that spot deep within him, making sure to touch his prostate whenever he pulled out. And not even biting his lower lip could stop his cries and moans from escaping. 

Almost delirious with pleasure, Clark stiffened as he came. He reached out to wipe at the semen on his belly, his cum still leaking out from the tip of his deflated cock. Bruce chuckled.

“What are you laughing at…”

Still coming down from his high, Clark couldn’t even muster the strength to talk, thinking about the fact that Bruce was still inside him, the ache in the small of his back was almost embarrassing. Suddenly, Bruce pulled out, causing him to let out a surprised moan. 

“Turn over,” Bruce said, patting his thigh.

“Ah?” He looked at his stomach, not knowing how to clean those fluids away. “Wait, it’s going to stain the carpet—“

“It’s alright, we’ll just wipe it clean later.”

“It’s going to leave a smell!” And Clark suddenly thought about Bruce having sex with other women on the same carpet. It almost made his stomach churn, it just didn’t feel right. 

“Just kidding,” Bruce wiped away the mess with his hand. “I’ll just get a new carpet, it needs changing anyways… hurry up, turn over.” 

Clark reluctantly got onto his front, kneeling with his legs bent underneath him. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing, lying with legs spread open or with his ass in the air, or moaning when he was getting fucked.

As Bruce pried Clark’s cheeks apart and smeared his come around that tiny pink hole, Clark could not help but suppress a shiver. Bruce buried his face between the wings of Clark’s shoulder as he entered his body again. He grabbed onto his pelvis and thrust in, slow and hard, Clark was hot and tight, instinctively clenching down upon him. 

Clark’s back was tinged red from rubbing against the carpet, but Bruce could not make out whether it was because of the blush reddening his body or from the carpet burns. Clark’s forehead was almost pressed against the floor, he couldn’t think, all he did was pant and shiver as he tried not to let his hips fall. He reached between his legs to grasp his cock, only to realise that his pre cum had soaked the carpet. 

“It’s… It’s dirty…” He cupped his hand over the tip of his cock, moving in time to Bruce’s thrusts. 

“The carpet needs to be changed anyways, concentrate on me, not on the damn thing.” 

“But…”

Bruce braced one hand on the floor as he leaned forward, his hulking body pressed against Clark, his cock completely encased inside his body. He bit down on his earlobe when Clark let out a surprised noise, capturing his lips in a kiss as the boy turned. 

They kissed as he ground his hips against Clark’s body, before moving to press kisses on his nape and upper back. He moved his hand to massage Clark’s perineum, cupping his balls and rolling them in his palm. The pleasurable feeling coursing through his body was almost too much to bear as he felt his impending climax.

“Are you… going to come… hnnnn… stop…”

“Hush, be quiet,” Bruce looked up at the hole in the ceiling, hoping Alfred was still sound asleep. 

His grip on Clark’s pelvis tightened, leaving bruises on his skin. Clark was finding it difficult to hold his body up every time his prostate was struck, until Bruce gave a hard thrust in, holding himself still as he lay atop of Clark’s back before the two of them collapsed onto the floor, bodies pressed against each other as they tried to catch their breaths. 

“Oh God, you’re wonderful,” Bruce muttered, burying his face in Clark’s neck as he pressed kisses against his soft skin. Clark could almost feel Bruce’s cock twitching inside him. 

“Uh shit… sorry… I—“ Bruce pulled out, watching as his semen trickled out between Clark’s cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Clark turned to look at Bruce’s bashful face, before turning around to face him fully. “I’m not a girl anyways.” 

“I don’t mean that, Clark, I—“

Clark pulled Bruce down into another kiss, cutting him off. Bruce instinctively kissed back, Clark’s lips were like the forbidden fruit, sweet and tempting. 

“Come to my room,” Bruce said, as he kissed his forehead lovingly. “And I must have broken my promise twice tonight, how am I going to face my dear butler tomorrow morning?” 

“I’m already an adult,” Clark could not help but remind him. 

“I’m not worried about this. Avoiding the cops is my specialty,” he winked jokingly. “But are you able to be responsible for your actions?” 

“I’m not someone who does whatever he pleases, it’s because—“

This time it was Bruce’s turn to cut Clark off with a kiss, caressing his thighs and lower back as he deepened the kiss, not wanting to let him go. Clark could only lightly pound at Bruce’s shoulders in protest, but when his tongue was bitten, his brain shut off.

“Because of what?” Bruce asked, it was rather cunning of him to take advantage of Clark’s dazed state. “Because you like me?”

Clark gazed into those warm brown eyes, and was suddenly filled with a want to depend on Bruce, but he knew he could not stay by his side. So, as if he were confessing to his first love, he said, “Yes.” 

Bruce’s smile was blinding, as though he were a little boy opening his presents on Boxing Day. It even made his eyes look warmer, a boy’s confession was actually more precious to him than any presents he had ever received. He held onto Clark tightly, who was at a loss on what to do.

Clark was troubled, Bruce looked as though he had never felt love in his life, and his eyes looked older than his given age. Clark could not understand why, maybe it had something to do with this empty haunting manor, and Bruce was just like this manor, filled with poise and loneliness. 

At that moment, he didn’t realise the significance of their meeting, and this chance meeting was short as it lasted, but fate was about to tie their futures together, no matter how challenging the road ahead was. 

“Let’s head upstairs,” Bruce ruffled Clark’s hair playfully. “You won’t get taller if it’s past your bed time.” 

“I’m still gonna get taller,” Clark stuck his tongue out. 

***

They grabbed their clothes and made their way naked towards Bruce’s bedroom.

The room was not as luxurious as he had imagined; the checkered window frames, wooden furniture and potted palm tree showed a distinct oriental influence, and the queen sized bed in the middle of the room looked as though it had been from his childhood. 

Clark loved the atmosphere of the room, compared to luxurious four posters and huge crystal chandeliers, there was a sense of home and belonging here.

They threw their clothes on the bed and entered the bathroom. Bruce filled the tub with water, before he turned on the showerhead and pointed it towards Clark, who immediately lifted his arms to block the spray of water as he yelled at him to stop. But Bruce continued to have his fun, not giving Clark a single chance to hide.

“Stop it!” Clark grabbed the showerhead and turned the spray of water on Bruce instead.

Bruce was not fast enough to avoid the water hitting his face, coughing as it went up his nose. Instinctively, he moved to block the spray as he wiped his face dry. 

“Stop, let’s get ourselves cleaned up!” Bruce moved to turn off the faucet, not noticing the disgruntled look on Clark’s face. 

“Are you admitting defeat then?”

“This isn’t admitting defeat,” Bruce said cheekily, grabbing the bottle of shampoo and squeezing a dollop on Clark’s hair, before massaging that crown of soft black hair until bubbles formed. Clark, who was a head shorter, got annoyed. He reached over for the body wash, squeezing a palm-sized amount of shower gel before lathering it over Bruce’s chest. 

He is one stubborn kid. Bruce has no idea whether to give it to him or be worried about him. He sees his younger self in Clark, but he was probably overthinking it, after all, Clark turned out to be much better than him. 

“My parents passed away when I was much younger than you. So Alfred and I are the only ones staying in this manor,” Bruce said, before seeing the hint of a smile on the corner of Clark’s lips. 

“There are a lot of things your parents will impart to you, and they’re going to be really helpful in the future, so don’t take it to heart, alright?” 

Bruce thought he ran away from home? Clark was so caught up with his thoughts he even allowed Bruce to pinch his cheeks, his strokes slowing down until he was almost caressing the other man’s chest and abs, his movements slowly taking on a sensual turn. Clark hurried withdrew his hands and rubbed the foam on his body instead.

“Do you need help washing…that area?” Bruce asked cheekily, as he lathered shampoo on his hair. 

“N-NO!” Clark blushed as he moved his hands behind his back. Under Bruce’s intense gaze, he just simply couldn’t gather up the courage to slip his fingers inside and clean himself. 

Bruce turned on the faucet, and the steam filled the shower room. His back was facing Clark as he rinsed off the bubbles, who immediately noticed the multitude of scars littering Bruce’s back, and he felt someone had just punched him in the chest.

Various scenarios on how Bruce could have gotten those scars entered his head, maybe he had a traumatic accident during his childhood, or maybe he was abused by his nanny but was too afraid to get help — despite the fact there seems to be only a butler taking care of him — but he just couldn’t comprehend how he could have that many scars on his body. 

They were like brands, evidence of a past hidden in secrecy, things that will never appear on his body, nothing could leave a wound on his body. 

Clark could not help but reach out to touch those scars. 

“You okay?” Bruce turned to look at him, aiming the shower at him at the same time. But Clark did not attempt to hide this time, allowing the water to run down his head.

“Nothing..” Clark’s mouth opened as though to say something before clamping them shut, his mind warning that he should not make the attempt to understand this man even further. Bruce was no doubt full of mystery and charisma, anyone would be attracted to that, but Clark knew he couldn’t be one of those people. 

He will just let this man keep his secrets to himself. 

After the shower, Bruce should have sent him to his room to retire for the night, but Clark did not want to leave that soon. He slowly strolled to the bed and pretended to fold his rumpled pyjamas, his bathrobe was tied loosely around him, as though it might slip off the moment you pulled at the back. 

Bruce had his back tpwards him as he stoked the fire, thinking the fireplace in the other room must have gone out. As he turned to ask Clark if he needed help starting the fire, he ended up staring at the expanse of skin and shoulder revealed to him. 

As though feeling the burning gaze on his back, Clark turned to look at Bruce. The moment their gazes met, their minds went blank, completing forgetting what they were about to say. Clark unknowingly took a step forward, wanting to kiss him, but Bruce was faster, already enveloping him in his arms. 

“This is a little strange…?” was all Clark said before his lips were captured in another wild kiss, the two of them collapsing onto Bruce’s bed. They only had a towel wrapped around their waist, not even bothering with their clothes before passion overtook them again. 

No one could tell who made the first move, the two of them were so caught up in their lust they simply wanted to touch the other, their beating of their hearts were loud against the silence of the night. 

“You said to go to bed early,” Clark whispered. 

“That I did…” Bruce smiled wryly, lifting himself up before he was grabbed into another kiss, Clark’s knee moving between his legs to grind against him. “Oi! Stop that.” 

“Do you want to go bed now… or do you wish to sleep with me?” 

“Your face really doesn’t suit the kind of language you’re spouting out, you know,” An almost bitter smile hovered on the edge of Bruce’s lips, before realising he was definitely getting a reaction from the teasing. “You shouldn’t mess with someone older than you.” 

“I’m not” Clark flipped them over, swiftly straddling Bruce’s body. “What do you think?” 

“We just took a shower, Cl—“ and Bruce inhaled in shock, watching as that pair of red and moist lips hovered above his erection, before engulfing it in his warm wet mouth. Bruce panted heavily as his vision blurred, that tongue flicking against the tip of his cock. 

“This is rather difficult,” Clark pulled away after a few tries, and Bruce heaved a sigh in relief. 

“Yes, and you didn’t have to do that.” 

“You don’t like it?” Clark frowned at him. The expression on his face was almost pitiful. 

“I feel guilty.” 

“Bullshit, you got bigger,” Clark snorted as he grinned triumphantly at him. 

Bruce loved watching Clark smile, that grin was infectious, and he swore it made him feel happier. It was a pity he couldn’t make this boy stay by his side.

“That’s why I feel guilty.” 

He didn’t understand why he had to say such things, they even had sex, and he had definitely enjoyed it, yet he had decided to use his conscience as a way to refuse him. Clark was still smiling, yet he couldn’t say anything to make it up to him. 

“Stop it,” Clark teased, yet Bruce could hear the sadness in his voice. “A few more years and you probably even won’t recognise me…” He knows how fast beauty fades. He may be young now, but there will be a day he would grow to be someone who won’t look like the person in his memories. 

“Clark… I won’t forget you.” Bruce was not comforting him, this chance meeting was important to him, if they could only be together for just this one night, it would be a memory he would forever cherish.

“Then don’t let me forget you for the rest of my life.” 

Clark closed his eyes and cradled Bruce’s face with his hands, leaning down to kiss him, the loose bathrobe slipping off his shoulder to pool around his waist. Bruce caressed his lower back, before slipping downwards to hold his cock as he slowly entered Clark’s body, a suppressed groan escaping him. 

— Losing any single one of your five senses is a frightening thing, but the worst was definitely losing the sensation of pain. If you didn’t feel pain, does that make you brave? Is that supposed to be the courage everyone should look up to? He didn’t know. 

Sensing Clark was lost in his thoughts, Bruce reached out to spank him. “If you have something in your mind, say it, stop holding them in. If you’re not going to move, I’m going to.” He laid his palm on his cheek, giving it an urgent pinch. 

“…Bruce, if someone asks you to shoot them in the chest, to prove they are invulnerable, what would you do?” Clark asked as he raised and lowered his lips, his two hands planted firmly on Bruce’s shoulder as he rode him. He had to breathe in deeply to keep his voice stable, yet he simply could not stop.

“Whoa.” Clark’s question threw Bruce off guard, he could see the boy was genuinely curious, maybe he was that “someone” in the question. “If it’s someone I know, I would punch him in the face and yell at him to stop thinking he’s all that.” 

“Why?” 

“Don’t stop, keep going,” Bruce landed another slap on that voluptuous behind, the sound sharp in his ear. “Do you understand? Maybe what we should notice isn’t the person’s moral compass, but the person himself. Such immense power, yet he chooses to use it to help others instead of benefiting himself, you don’t find people like that anymore. Their hearts may not be as strong as their body, but that’s another thing altogether.” 

Bruce tilted his head up to look at the dazed youth on top of him, before leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. 

“We can calculate the trajectory of the bullet if it rebounds, but you won’t know where it’s going to hit. I hope this person remembers that there are others around him whenever he’s battling evil, and his actions can end up getting them hurt,” Bruce said. “There’s nothing wrong with being kind, but even the purest form of kindness can end up hurting people.” 

“Anyways, what should I do to stop your mind from wandering?” Bruce asked, before looping an arm around Clark’s waist and flipping them over. Clark’s back sunk into the soft downy mattress, and not even giving him a chance to speak, Bruce captured those lips with his own, battling for dominance. 

Bruce kissed him and thrust his hips against his body, and in that short period of time, all he could hear was their pants and the wet sounds of their fluids mingling together, Clark’s heart was more fragile than he had thought, but Bruce couldn’t do anything except to fill that hole temporarily, and hope for the best.

Only he could help himself, and other people could only help guide his way along. This was how Bruce completed his journey to become the man he was today, and all the more should children who have it hard gain independence. Yet, he had no idea meeting Clark would expose the weakness he thought he had overcame, and probably because they were too alike—

“You know, you can be more honest with yourself… let your emotions go…” he murmured into Clark’s ear, as if he was talking to himself, he had learned to control his passions over the years, but they were set aflame again in this cold dark night. 

To Clark, every single sound echoed loudly in his ears, he had learned to control his super-hearing a long time ago, yet, it was drowned out by the passion and pleasure crashing over him, Bruce’s deep voice, the wet sound of his thrusts, even the trickling of sweat was clear as crystal, and the moans he tried to suppress were growing in volume. 

“B-Bruce…!” 

His rose tinged body shivered and swayed, and Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck, softly crying out, “Hold me tightly, please.” This wouldn’t be the last hug in his life, but maybe… this would the last hug between them, at least before the dawn breaks. 

He did not want to leave. 

“Okay.” 

Sometimes, what you do unto others, others will do unto you, but when you wished to be hugged so tightly that you can’t breathe, you have to ask. 

Once asked, it was actually not as difficult as sounded. 

***

After a night of sentimentality, the two figures on the bed were wrapped tightly in each other’s embrace, Clark’s back pressed against Bruce’s chest, as the former listened to the other’s heartbeat, feeling the hot breath against him, refusing to fall asleep. 

He felt like he was in summer camp again, that feeling of not wanting to leave. He always had a solemn outlook on life, wearing it like a cloak around him. After that incident with the school bus, his mother had persuaded him to go for summer camp, to try to make friends with students from other schools and places. But he just couldn’t understand the point of making a friend if he was never to see them again. Yet, he didn’t realise that this air of melancholia around him would only serve to make him more like a freak.

Even as he watched the girls cry as they exchanged emails and phone numbers, he did feel a slight twinge of envy in him. Even he did not have someone whom he felt a certain sense of admiration to — mostly the camp organisers and leaders— he simply refused to step out of his comfort zone, and kept his words of gratitude to himself. 

Clark opened his eyes and sighed. He knew he had decided to leave. Yet, as the time neared, he just simply couldn’t bring himself to. Slowly, he moved the arm slung around his waist without waking Bruce up and quietly slipped out of bed. 

This meeting was by chance, there wouldn’t be a second time. Yet, for the first time in his life, he felt the desire, the need to leave something behind. Probably, when the day comes when he could finally look at himself in the eye, that tiny seed of hope might grow into something more.

He looked around and walked towards the wardrobe, taking out Bruce’s wallet from his suit trousers. He could feel a sense of guilt niggling at the back of his head, but he had to return to school immediately, and he didn’t have enough money on him to buy a plane ticket back to Kansas, it was the only way to slip out without the other knowing. 

Clark turned to look at Bruce, who was still fast asleep, before sneaking back to the room he was supposed to be staying in. He changed into his clothes and folded his pyjamas neatly, before placing them on the bed. 

He wrote a note and used a paperweight to hold it down on the table in the living room, sighing as he looked at it. 

“So you’re leaving?”

Clark’s head snapped up, turns out it was the old butler, and he could not help but let out a relieved sigh. 

“Yes. I’m really sorry for being so sneaky, but… if you could, please don’t tell him,” he said, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

Alfred noticed the young man’s action, but chose not to comment on it. 

“You have my word,” he smiled kindly at Clark. “Do you need another jacket? You’re going to catch a cold like that.” 

Clark could not help but feel bashful as he faced Alfred, this old man who had nothing but his interests at heart. It was hard to resist the urge to ruffle those black curls of his when he kept stealing furtive glances around. 

“No, it’s alright, thank you,” he smiled.

“Then at least let me send you out, it wouldn’t take long, don’t worry.” 

Faced with this kind request, Clark could only do nothing but accept it. 

***

Bruce woke up almost two hours later, he rarely slept for long periods of time, much less had a night as wild as this. In the past, when he had to keep up his double life, he had to keep track of his sleeping hours, to make sure that he simply couldn’t disappear in the mornings because of his night activities. Yet, as time passed and his body got used to it, he was able to control the amount of rest his body needs. 

The young man’s maturity was as sweet as the forbidden fruit; one cannot help but have a taste. At the same time, it also made him realise how dangerous it was to sink too deep, as he lost control of his urges. Bruce loved his rebelliousness, the fragility of his heart, and not to mention his alluring lips and soft moans, it was enough to make him throw everything aside and let his passion take over. 

When he realised there was no one next to him, his heart sank. 

He thought Clark had returned to the guest room, so he changed and went to look for him, only to find a pair of folded pyjamas on the bed. He went to the living room downstairs and saw the note on the table. 

His instincts told him that everything had happened as he had expected to. He took the note and saw what was written on it. 

I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to return the money to you.  
-Clark”

Bruce stood shell-shocked for two seconds before bursting into laughter. 

If it weren’t for the note, he would have thought everything was a dream. The entire scenario was almost too funny to be true, he might even start doubting his own sanity. This boy’s acting was definitely something to be awe of, yet he was grateful that he didn’t have to do it. After all, such negativity would only mean ignoring his feelings altogether. Holding the note in his hand, Bruce walked back to his bedroom and looked at the suit hanging in the wardrobe. 

As he opened his wallet, he noticed his cards were still there, except for a couple of huge bills. He noted the amount missing and deduced the possible transportation system Clark could have used to narrow down the exact area he came from, but immediately shoved the thought out of his head. 

He couldn’t do this, no matter how much he couldn’t bear to see Clark leave. Slipping his wallet back into his suit trousers, he turned to see Alfred by his doorstep, looking at him in concern. 

“…Was he just a fleeting shooting star in my life?” Bruce asked bitterly, not sure if he was directing the question to Alfred or himself. 

In the past, he wouldn’t mind letting a girl he spent the night with slip away in the middle of the night, they had taken what they needed, and no other explanations were needed. 

Until that very person appeared, someone he wanted to know, to care for. Yet, he disappeared as well. 

Maybe that was the reason why he made sure to keep his origins hidden, but Bruce still found it hard to accept. 

“Master Bruce, you should let him decide if he wants to come back,” Alfred said. He didn’t know how to comfort his young master, yet he knew Bruce definitely had feelings for the boy. “If you wish, you could help those children who are in need of help, the ones who are actually homeless and roaming the streets.” 

“Yes… He wasn’t even willing to tell me where he came from, and he left so quietly.” Bruce waved his hand absent-mindedly, before rubbing his face in his palms, the despair in his face made Alfred’s heart ache, yet he was simply at a complete loss.

“Will you be heading to the office today?” Alfred asked cautiously, he knows Bruce is resilient, whenever there’s a challenge, he wouldn’t mope over it for a long time, and work is the best way to boost one’s concentration. Master Bruce is an intelligent man, he will know what to do. 

“Of course, of course I’m going,” Bruce said. “I’ve already planned on working today.” 

Bruce slipped the note underneath the glass panel of his side table, allowing him to look at it whenever he wished to, as though he could remember the boy’s figure, that flight of stairs during that fateful night, the carpet beside the fireplace, and his sweet smile. 

As time passed, the memories start to blur, the young man never kept his promise, and Bruce’s longing faded to ash. The note underneath the glass panel was kept between the pages of a book, probably yellowed with time, but Bruce never knew, because among his huge library of books, he forgot the exact one he had placed the note in. 

Slowly, he forgot about the note’s existence, and the young man probably never appeared in his dreams afterwards. 

“….I won’t forget you…”

15 years later, on that very night, he had another dream.


	4. A Few Months Ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait, it was finals week a while back. 
> 
> Here's the fourth chapter for Light the Night. I'm still editing the final two chapters, both of which are in Bruce's and Clark's POV respectively. So hopefully they'll be up by next week or so.

Chapter 4

It was a common sight to see trucks parked outside this rest stop next to a highway in the mountains somewhere in British Columbia. Business was always booming in Cassidy’s Club; the parking lot already filled with trucks, and the ground wet from the snow that was beginning to fall.

Ludlow, who was driving his truckload of logs down the highway, finally arrived. His colleagues had reached a couple of minutes ago and from afar he could already see the log filled trucks.

Parking his truck at an empty log, a blast of cold air hit him as he opened the door. Patting his cheeks to keep the chill off, Ludlow adjusted his cap and hurried into the club, hoping to grab some beer to warm up and to rag at his pals for leaving him behind.

The club was filled with the buzz of people talking, while a female singer strummed her guitar on the stage, serenading the crowd with a soulful country song. Aside from the truck drivers, the club was filled with Canadian soldiers. Some were seated at their tables, others by the bar top, and a handful were engaged in a game of billiards.

It was almost as if they were here on holiday instead of official military matters.

Two of the soldiers seated by the bar top began discussing about the American troops stationed on Ellesmere Island and how there were plans for some kind of investigation. They had found it suspicious, but the higher up refused to provide any more information, and all they knew were that the troops were conducting an investigation on “unidentified objects.”

The two soldiers simply could not understand why their government had allowed the Americans to set up base there. But the fact that the Americans were allowed to refuse help from the Canadian Army unsettled them the most.

No one knows what the Americans were trying to find on an island filled with nothing but snow. And even if they did managed to find something, that object should have belonged to Canada.

Those two soldiers weren’t speaking very loudly, but it was loud enough for Bruce, who was seated at a table by the corner, to catch every single word. He couldn’t help but get curious; after all, he had spotted a MH-47E Chinook, belonging to the US Army, in the sky a few days ago when he had been driving towards the Rocky Mountains for a trek.

He was not as young and energetic as he was many years ago. To maintain his physical prowess, especially his stamina and strength, Bruce made sure to go on rock climbing or mountaineering expeditions as regularly as he could. Even if he was getting tired of having to put on a mask to fight crime at night, his hobbies never changed.

“You’re American?” a man wearing a baseball cap suddenly came over and sat at his table, asked. He looked to be in his mid fifties, with graying hair and beard. His cheeks were ruddy — probably from the alcohol.

Bruce looked at him, smoothing his mussed up hair after he had taken off his woollen cap.

“Yes I am. What’s the matter?” Bruce was not worried about being recognized. He had gone on the climb alone for almost three days, and had grown an entire beard, looking like any average mountain climber in the area.

Besides, he was in the mountains of Canada.

“Nothing, I think I saw your car just now. Sweet ride. Here alone?”

“Thanks. Yeah, climbing mountains,” Bruce answered tersely.

“Climbing mountains, wouldn’t it be dangerous to do it all by yourself? What if you got into an accident?” The man wasn’t trying curse him or anything. To be all alone in the mountains on such a snowy night, if he were to meet a brown bear, the chance of getting out alive were close to nil.

“Nothing’s going to happen, you’re thinking too much.”

If something were to really happen, how could he be seated in front of him and having a drink?

The man in the cap felt the other party was rather standoffish. He wanted to carry on talking but could not think of anything else intelligent to say before heading back to his seat.

Suddenly, the sounds of a chair being smashed and broken glass caught everyone’s attention. Even the singer stopped singing.

“Oi… what’s with the sudden noise?” he muttered, and Bruce looked towards the source of the commotion.

“Oh, Chrissy! I just love the beer she serves! She is definitely the face of Cassidy’s. Look, even Ludlow is attracted to her,” he laughed, taking a swig from the bottle. “But that guy's too thick skinned, can’t even accept the fact that he’s rejected.”

Bruce snorted, seemingly not interested, but kept his eyes on the scene happening in the corner.

“Heh, look at that kid,” he whistled. “Now something’s going to happen.”

A tall young man had stepped in between a waitress and a customer, as though to break up the fight. When Bruce had stepped into the bar, he did not notice him. He had probably been cleaning the tables or sweeping the floor. Judging from the dirty frayed apron he was wearing, he was probably one of the employees in the club.

The young man had stepped in to stop Ludlow, and the latter immediately stood up. All eyes were on them; even the singer wasn't singing anymore, the tension in the air was almost palpable.

Judging from those thick broad shoulders, he might not outmatched. And if they did fight, Ludlow was probably not his match. Yet, despite his tall built, he seemed to be slouching, a contrast to the determined look on his face.

“Or what, tough guy?” Ludlow was shorter than the young man, but he was almost bursting with anger.

"Or... I gotta ask you to leave,” the young man said softly, a touch of firmness underneath that voice.

“Or... I think I’ll probably just leave when I'm getting ready” Ludlow said, before grabbing the tankard of beer on the table and throwing the contents onto the young man’s face, pouring the dregs over his head till not a single drop was left.

He closed his eyes, silently allowing the foam to drip down his head. Everyone in the vicinity burst into laughter, but no one stepped in, even Chrissy was shocked, completely forgetting that she should have wiped his face clean.

The young man blinked and his lips thinned, his large bright eyes staring at Ludlow as if to say, “Alright, now you’ve pissed me off.” But Bruce did not manage to see the expression on his face.

“Oh, there he is!” Ludlow taunted, lunging forward to push him to the ground. But the young man remained unmovable. Even if Ludlow had not used his full strength, the shove would have sent a grown man sprawling. Instead, it had sent him staggering back.

He glared at the young man, a mixture of anger and confusion in his eyes. The young man frowned at him, and his mouth opened to say something but Chrissy immediately stopped him.

“It's not worth it, sweetie.”

He looked at her and let out a sigh. From the expression on his face, it was obvious he wasn’t going to let this go, but he didn’t wish to escalate the matter as well. So he took off the apron he was wearing, threw it on the table and walked off.

“Hey asshole, don’t forget your tip.”

Bruce managed to get a clear view of the man’s face, clear cut features framed by a mop of messy curls, a faint hint of stubble on his chin, and deep lines around his eyes from anger.

“Didn’t really have to see that,” the man sitting beside Bruce commented, “Is he trying to scare off the employees? That kid hadn’t lasted a week, I didn’t even manage to get his name!”

Ludlow threw an empty beer can at his back. But the young man did not respond, and left by the back door.

The confrontation had killed his mood, and Ludlow decided to leave. After footing the bill, he made a mental note to deliver the goods promptly and head home to rest.

“You can’t survive on pride and morals, if he had wanted the job, he should have just sucked it up, not get up and leave.”

“Point taken,” Bruce admitted, young people should always learn to endure. ”But it was admirable to see him not retaliate, most people would have immediately fought back.”

“That’s true… what?” the man sat up and saw Ludlow striding back into the bar, a look of incredulity on his face.

“Quick! You have to see this!” Ludlow shouted, waving his hands about. The customers in the bar looked at each other upon seeing the distraught on his face, but the soldiers reacted immediately, rushing out to see what Ludlow was panicking about.

The scene in front of them was like nothing they had ever encountered.

Underneath the lamppost, the huge truck was pinned to the ground by the logs it was carrying, the damaged areas still spewing sparks.

It was a chilling yet puzzling sight.

Everyone thought it might have been caused by a freak tornado, but the way the truck was destroyed was definitely not by some kind of freak extreme weather phenomena.

They made their way cautiously to the truck, surveying the damage in front of them.

“God… was it a tornado?” the old customer swore. In all his 50 odd years he had never seen a scene like the one in front of him.

“It’s not.” Bruce said from behind the old man, confident in his deduction. The old man turned and was shocked to see how huge this American was.

“Well, who the fuck cares anyways, we need to get a tow truck to sort this mess out. This truck must have cost a bomb…”

The old man continued mumbling to himself as he took in the scene in front of him, not paying attention to the light in the American’s eyes, the quickening of his pulse, as though a memory once long gone was coming back to him.

A year ago, he had a dream.

And that very same dream came true right at this place.

 

TBC


	5. Bonus: The Deep Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the night: Clark's P.O.V.

Chapter 5

Weeks after Clark got home, Bruce was constantly on his mind.

He even started paying attention to the news, hoping to see him on television. Yet, as news about Wayne Industries came on, there was hardly anything about the man himself. Instead, it was always the same bespectacled spokesman with some dowdy haircut who addressed the press.  

School started, and Clark didn’t have time for television anymore. He had to juggle his time between school and work; his job at the local bar was to help him learn to interact with people. Even if there was the constant urge to shove the occasional drunkard’s face into their glass of beer, he was slowly learning how to control his temper.

Truthfully, he was close to forgetting anything related to Bruce Wayne. Had not some girls from his school left their copy of some trashy tabloid magazine on the bar top. If he hadn’t glanced at the cover in curiosity, he had nearly forgotten Bruce’s features –

He tore the magazine into shreds.

“…Did you really have to do that?” the man seated nearest to Clark by the bar top asked. “Now how are you gonna recycle that?”

Clark glanced at him.

“I’ll just bury it,” he joked, but there was no humour in his eyes. He silently walked towards the janitor’s closet at the back , took out the broom and swept up the mess on the floor.

Were all rich people like that? Clark tried to not think about the photo – Bruce attending some high class function with women hanging off his arms – They didn’t even look like your average supermodels, but women who were definitely made of money and poise.

This was getting stupid.

Sometimes, he would think about that huge bed, the softness of the mattress beneath his back, the rough texture of the carpet, how Bruce’s stubble felt against his skin…

Sometimes he wondered if he returned to Gotham to look for Bruce, would he still welcome him with open arms?

This probably showed how infatuated he was with the man.

“Would you like another one?” Clark asked the same man. His frustration must be showing, because the man froze for almost a good 5 seconds before nodding.

Clark filled an empty glass for himself, before refilling the man’s tankard. He impatiently emptied the can of beer into the tankard, the frothy liquid overflowed and splashed onto the man’s hand.

“Dude, you must have had a bad day!”

Clark didn’t reply. Instead, he only raised his glass for a toast and glanced at the yellow bubbling liquid, the shiny surface of the glass reflecting his furrowed brows. To him, drinking alcohol was like drinking tap water – everything he did was for nothing, and he knew it.

***

Something terrible happened the year after.

They were caught in the middle of a raging tornado while on the way home. And Jonathan, kindhearted and altruistic Jonathan Kent, saved many lives, including their dog, Hank.

Yet, in the midst of it all, he sacrificed his own.

Clark couldn’t believe that it would actually happen to him. Jonathan had always told him to stay on the sidelines whenever he saw accidents happening. And now, he had to watch helplessly as his father got swept away.

In that split second, he had stood rooted to the ground, unable to move, why was he hesitating?

The time before Jonathan was swept away, Clark knew it was enough for him to run towards his father at a normal human’s pace to protect him. He could have used the truck as a shield, to block them from the bystanders’ view, and simply claim they were lucky enough to not be swept away.

Instead, he did nothing but stood there and cried his heart out.

His father sacrificed himself to protect his secret. But how many lives were lost just to keep his identity a secret?

Weeks after the funeral, Clark locked himself up in his room everyday, tormented by guilt and grief. There was no longer any room for Bruce in his heart and mind. All he could see were the fear on the people’s faces, and yet his father, his beloved father, showed nothing but calm and determination.

“…Why couldn’t I save you?”

“Why couldn’t I save you?”

Why? What’s the point of his existence if he was gifted with powers beyond imagination and yet could not use them?

How long more must he hide before the world was ready?

He knew he could have sensed the tornado approaching, he could have warned them. Yet, all he did was argue.

He didn’t use of his powers for good.

It was his fault.

***

 This was his fault.

If he hadn’t readily accepted Bruce’s invitation, he wouldn’t have taken an entire week’s leave from the company just to go on a vacation with him. Even if he was the CEO, he couldn’t be this stubborn. And even if Bruce was willing to spend all 7 days with him, it did nothing to lessen the guilt in his heart.

A well-known billionaire out on the streets with some unknown and unassuming young man, there really isn’t much fun to it.

In the end, because of Clark’s fears of getting stalked by the paparazzi and having to keep their actions a secret, they ended up staying in the manor for the entire week with their collection of rented DVDs.

To Bruce, this was a vacation, and you can do whatever you want on a vacation, even if it meant huddling in front of the television and watching rented movies.

The only thing bad about it was that Alfred was out of town for personal matters. So, they had to survive on takeouts and deliveries, or eating junk food with his boyfriend. It had been an experience, though he can’t seem to understand how any of this was fun. But as long as Clark was with him, he was happy, even if it didn’t show on his face.

“Do you think the teacher’s the murderer?” 

After dinner, Clark had a bucketful of popcorn in his arms, shoving a few pieces into his mouth as he talked. At the same time, he would pick up a piece and throw it to the other side of the sofa where Bruce was seated.

Bruce lowered the newspaper he was reading and caught the popcorn with his mouth.

Clark wanted to applaud at Bruce’s popcorn catching skills. What an amazing talent.

“Of course not,” Bruce replied, turning his attention back to the newspaper.

“Why? He looks suspicious.”

A pause.

“Do you really want to know?”

He remembered the first day of their movie marathon, Clark had asked the same question. He had used his deducting skills and revealed the plot to every single movie – despite never watching a single one. Clark had pouted and glared at him for ten minutes straight after finishing the films.

“Nope,” Clark stuck his tongue out. “But I have a feeling he’s the murderer.”

“If he isn’t?” Bruce lowered the newspaper, deciding to tempt his boyfriend into doing something interesting. “Let’s have a bet then.”

“If he is, you can’t sleep till noon for the next few days. You promised we would go for a morning run.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. He had thought Clark wanted something special, not begrudge him for having a fucked up sleep schedule. He could see where Clark was coming from, he had taken an entire week’s leave for him, and yet half of it was wasted on sleep.

“Alright. And if he isn’t?”

“… Then… You can do whatever you want… to me,” Clark said, his ears starting to redden.  

Immediately, he turned his attention back to the movie as if nothing had happened, shoving handfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

“Anyways, I’m sure the teacher’s the murderer.”

“Of course,” Bruce shrugged, putting his newspaper aside. He reached out to grab some popcorn from the bucket and turned to watch the movie with him.

In the end, the ending didn’t even matter. Once Bruce had turned his attention onto the movie, Clark was unable to concentrate. Bruce had moved closer towards him to grab more popcorn, and Clark could almost feel the body heat emanating from the man.

Clark thanked the fact that Bruce didn’t have super hearing abilities to hear how fast his heart was beating, that would have been embarrassing.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“What?” a frown appeared on that angelic face. “Is the movie over? Who’s the murderer?”

“The teacher wasn’t the murderer, isn’t that obvious? He had no MO; all he wanted was to avoid trouble with people. Also, he’s old, how could he have gotten rid of the body? Much less try to hang a body from the tree. Was it because of his ‘suspicious’ actions that made you think he was the killer?”

As Bruce talked, he sneakily threw the empty bucket aside, using his height to his advantage as he crawled towards Clark, looming over him as Clark laid against the arm of the sofa.

“Then… who was it? That student reporter?”

“Shouldn’t upholding your promise be more important than whoever the murderer is?” Bruce’s teasing tone made him blush. “Stop running away whenever you start being a tease.”

“I… I’m not…”

Bruce looked down at him, and Clark had to raise his head to get a good look at him. Maybe he should have thought this through.

Gazing into those warm eyes, Bruce took the chance to grip onto his chin tightly.

“The… the murderer…” He could feel the warm breath against his face, but Clark was still being stubborn, asking questions even if it meant spoiling the mood.

“Was me,” he grinned, before capturing those lips in a kiss. Clark’s lips were as soft and sweet as he had remembered; he didn’t even mind that his clothes were getting wrinkled.

“Stop… teasing…”

Clark couldn’t breathe; his vision was getting blurry, yet he could still hear Bruce’s breath and heartbeat, and that alluring scent coming from him.

Until everything went white, and Clark realised he couldn’t hear anything anymore.

His body felt as heavy as lead, yet his limbs were relaxed. A sudden force pushed him up, his eyes were closed, his entire body surrounded by something soft.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Everywhere around him was dark and silent, a faint light coming from above – at that moment, Clark realised he was floating in the ocean, after he had fallen from the platform of the oil rig.

15 years ago, he was still the person in his dreams; his desires could only be fulfilled through them. Yet, to the person that he was right now, none of that matters any more…

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to translate, the introspective bits about Clark's thoughts is something that's definitely missing nowadays in fics.


	6. Bonus: In the Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the night... Bruce's P.O.V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, this is the end of Light the Night. Thanks to those who have left their kudos on this fic, and to those who have commented as well. It's my first time properly translating a fic from Chinese to English, so I apologize for the mistakes that I've made. 
> 
> Again, I would like to thank marrymecap for allowing me to share this fic to the non-Chinese readers in the fandom.

They spent the last day of their vacation in the Rocky Mountains. 

They didn’t have to worry about being followed, about being trailed by paparazzi on the hunt for their photos, just two men on a car heading for a climb in the mountains. 

This was Clark’s first mountain climbing trip. He never had the chance to explore the world proper, despite having been on trips with his parents, much less been on a climb with proper climbing gear.

Probably because their destination would be much further than expected. 

At more than 12,900 ft above sea level, Mount Robson was a daunting feat for many beginners. But Clark knew he could scale this mountain simply by walking. He was not limited by his stamina and the temperature was nothing to him.

Of course, he wisely kept this tidbit of information in his head. 

Night had fallen when they finally reached the cabin halfway up the mountain. The temperature had fallen considerably and there was no light from the inside. Hurriedly, the two men entered to escape the chill and put down their heavy haversacks.

“I thought we would be staying in the hotel nearby,” Clark said, taking off his beanie and shaking the stray drops of water away. “But this is perfectly fine.” 

He opened his haversack and began unpacking the equipment, cooking utensils and canned food that they had brought along.

“There would too many tourists, even if it isn’t peak season yet.”

Bruce threw the firewood the previous climbers had left behind into the fireplace.

“Also, it’s quiet up here.”

Just as he was about to get his lighter, Clark immediately stepped in and ignited the wood with his heat vision. Bruce glanced at him, catching the mischievous smirk on his face.

“Useful.”

Clark shrugged.

They laid their sleeping bags on the floor. The cabin wasn’t as cleaned or as well decorated as the other ones, but it was well stocked with blankets, pillows and other necessities. It probably might not be enough for winter, but it was more than enough for them right now.

They covered themselves with the blankets and slipped into their sleeping bags by the fireplace. Clark could not help but think back to that very night, where they had made love in a similar setting.

His body got hotter as he lost himself in his thoughts. Clark immediately turned to lie on his side, hoping to watch Bruce’s face.

He didn’t expect Bruce to be watching him instead.

Clark lowered his gaze shyly, and they suddenly found themselves in each other’s arms, running their hands over their bodies as they kissed furiously.

Every single inch of their body was burning hot. They used everything they knew to pleasure each other, to show their love, as though they had been longing for each other for a long time.

“Mmm…”Clark straddled Bruce’s hips, slowly undulating his body above Bruce’s own.

He could never get used to being penetrated, that slow stinging sensation of his entrance being stretched.

Bruce’s cock brushed against his prostate, and Clark could only tremble.

“I should start worrying if you’re suddenly getting better at this.”

“Sh-shut up…”

He pressed one hand on the carpet to balance himself, setting a slow pace as he got used to Bruce’s cock inside of him. Gradually, Clark couldn’t stop the moans from spilling out. He lowered his hips even more, hoping to find more pleasure in the position while he stroked himself with his other hand.

“Not too fast,” Bruce reminded.

But Clark was too overwhelmed with pleasure to even pay attention.

While Bruce didn’t mind being on his back to admire the view, it was his turn to take charge.

Lifting Clark up, Bruce pulled out and pushed him to the ground. Before Clark could even react, Bruce lifted his legs and entered him, shutting him up with a kiss.

His thrusts were quick and powerful, pressing deep into Clark without as much as a gap between his thighs and Clark’s ass, his balls slapping against Clark’s perineum. Clark could only cry out every time Bruce thrust into him.

“If we were to get lost in the mountains, would you be able to find me?”

What had he replied? 

“Of course, I’m Bruce Wayne.”

“One day, if I were to suddenly disappear… would you be able to find me?”

Clark’s voice was slowly disappearing, like an echo in the mountains. Bruce tried to make out what he was saying, but the words wouldn’t come.

He woke up with a start, eyes boring into the ceiling.

The dream was slowly slipping away from him, but all he could remember was the boy’s bright blue eyes.

“….Clark?”

 

-End-


End file.
